


Ready or Not

by Tawny



Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: And some not feelygood stuff but it won't ruin your day because it turns into feelygood stuff, Feelygood stuff, Flashbacks, Gen, Thanksgiving, Tony uses language as does Bucky and I don't even have to talk about Wade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tawny/pseuds/Tawny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanksgiving. Family. Togetherness. Having a singular meal together, with no stress, no anxiety, just camaraderie.  </p><p>Yeah, okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Casseroles

**Author's Note:**

> This is really nice to read with [some really nice oldies.](http://8tracks.com/lauren-stevens/a-thanksgiving-playlist)

To be fair, Tony knew this was coming. 

It's not as if a single day goes by where Thanksgiving Day isn't something that exists. It's always there, and Tony knows it. He always feels its presence when October gets chilly. He feels it looming when they dig out the cheap (or not cheap) plastic Santas that go on roofs and lawns in stores. He feels the anti-anticipation swirling around in his gut worse than the paper snowflakes that are whirring around in that poor silicone reindeer's big, snow globe imprisonment, forever trapped with the sound of the leafblower beneath him. Tony  _hates Thanksgiving._ It wasn't even like he ever  _did_ anything for the holiday-- if it could be called that. All it did was hike the food prices and bring more people than should be legal for whatever city he was staying in. The over-cheery music that was always played only showcased how  _unhappy_ an event this was. It was never really a good idea to jam pack twenty people into one room and expect food to be the only focus. There was going to be drama. People were going to come face to face with their mortal enemies, today. Their sister, their uncle, their old crooning grandparents they can't stand. 

And on top of that, Tony was usually expected to give his presence at the Macy's Day Parade, which was always cold and unfortunate, but the fact that he was getting attention made up for it. 

Last year, he and Pepper had sat down with a tiny little two pound bird,  because she didn't want to fly all the way to California to be with family. But this year, she  _had_ flown to California, and Tony had stayed in New York, because even if he did go to Malibu, he wouldn't have any family to celebrate with. (Pepper's dad had an extreme discomfort for Tony's presence after Pepper spent a short period of time as a fire breathing dragon. Oops.) 

This year, he was planning on rolling a screen out in front of his smallest table and giving JARVIS an 8-bit turkey to gobble down while Tony ate a TV dinner. Those were nice plans. Maybe Dum-E and U would be invited, but they'd probably fuck something up. Not worth it. 

His plans were, however, foiled by a very enthusiastic Clint barreling into the garage, donning a Santa hat and the fugliest sweater Tony had ever had the misfortune of laying his eyes on. 

 _"Turkey day!"_ he bounced, taking a running jump over the (very volatile, very possibly flammable) piece of machinery Tony had been working on in order to throw his arm around the engineer's neck, pulling him into an annoyingly leaning hug. "It's turkey day, it's turkey day!" 

"I--  _yeah,_ I got that," Tony grumbled, his arm flailing for a safe place to put his soldering gun. "What's gotten into you?"

"The turkey we're gonna eat today." If Tony could see the look on Clint's face, he was sure it would be that stupid shit eating grin that meant Clint was actually happy and that someone else was probably tied up and gagged in the middle of an alleyway. Just for kicks. Maybe it was a turkey he actually shot. Maybe it was the Macy's Day balloon. Tony made no move to pull away from the very one sided hug, simply electing to fall limp and let it happen, kind of in the way that you're not supposed to move if a t-rex is ever looking at you.  _This will pass._

" _We?"_

"Yeah, we. What do you mean,  _we?_ _"_ Clint mocked, giving a piss poor impression of Tony's voice. (It was actually a really good impression and it was unsettling.)

"Uh, I mean, I was under the impression you all had people to scurry off to," he explained, putting his hands up and bracing himself against Clint's elbow, trying to see if he could maneuver his way out of the chokehold of cheer. 

The chokehold of cheer grew jollier and tighter. 

"People to scurry off to? Tony, do you even know who you're living with?" 

"I really need to-"

"We don't have anywhere to go, man."

".. To finish this, thing, I have..."

"Look at me and tell me I have family."

".. Going on here."

"Put your toys away, it's not even Christmas yet," Clint laughed, reaching up to turn off the overhead lamp, beginning to walk away with Tony in tow. 

"Says the man wearing the Santa hat. I guess-- guess we're walking now, that's-" He faltered, getting tripped up over some wayward tool or other carelessly discarded on the floor. He didn't worry about it, it wouldn't be on the floor in the first place if it couldn't take a little rough housing. "That's nice, cool."

"Suck it up."

 

Suck it up, he did, indeed. Up the stairs he was dragged, and  _that God awful music he'd just complained about was playing_ , and the worst part was that it wasn't even holiday themed music, it was just happy music. He'd have to implement a 'no fun allowed during the holidays' rule for JARVIS. Tony wasn't released from Barton's custody until they made it into the main sitting room, after which he was deposited onto one of the couches. It wasn't like it hurt him, he was rich, his couches were plush as Hell. 

"I demand to know the meaning of this," Tony said, trying to decide whether to stay petulantly limp or if he should spring to attention. He went for simply sitting up, giving Clint a wary look. It was then that his eyes zeroed in on Thor and Bruce walking in, laughing. It seemed that whoever retrieved the other had been a lot more gentle than Clint had. Moments later, the same happened with Nat and Steve. Clint disappeared again to grab Sam. He could already feel it. The impending 'we need to talk' conversation. 'Tony, this is an intervention. We're here because we love you.' No, that sounded wrong. 'We're here because your inventions benefit us in the field and we really can't afford to lose you, man.' There.

"What? Why didn't you drag him in here?" Tony asked, disgruntled, as Sam and Clint raced into the room, and it seemed that something along the lines of 'last to sit down has to do Bruce's laundry' had been said. "You two are literally four years old," he grumbled sourly, and Steve moved to plop down beside him, chuckling. Tony's attention was immediately shifted. "Why isn't anybody talking to me?" he asked the super soldier, shaking his head slightly with a shrug. "I don't get it, why was I brought here? What purpose am I-"

"We're watching a movie."

"... A movie?"

"We're watching a movie. It's Thanksgiving and we're privileged to be sitting under the same roof, so we're watching a movie together. We might even cook."

"... Huh."

He moved to sit back, his shoulders hitting the leather with a soft  _pouf_ of force, feeling just as dumbstruck as he looked. "You know, I have a home cinema for this."

"We know," Natasha all but purred, leaning over the back of their couch to pluck one of the fluffies from Tony's shoulder. Clint's hat was shedding. "This is more family friendly."

"Family friendly," Tony repeated, turning his dumb stare to her, his mouth hanging open just a bit. 

"Oh, loosen up, Tony," Bruce hummed, moving to take the seat to his left. This made a Stark sandwich. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with this. "It's not like we're watching Pacific Rim."

"Oh,  _ha._ You're a prince of comedy." The hostility in Tony's voice. You could slice it with a knife.

"What're we watching, JARV?" asked Clint, characteristically tipping his head up to the ceiling.

"Why is JARVIS deciding what we're watching?" The disgruntlement in Tony's voice. You could slice it with a knife.

"We put a list of possible titles into a data base and had JARVIS shuffle them," supplied Bruce softly, as if Tony were about to turn into a giant green monster or something. Weird. The guy has a large imagination, everyone knows green is a stereotypical color for monsters. Tony was more likely to go red in the face than green, anyway, which just further pissed him off, because red and green are Christmas colors, and they're just barely getting over the Thanksgiving  _morning._

"Why didn't I have any say in a movie to watch?" he asked, knowing it probably wouldn't have made a difference to him if they'd have just  _asked him._

"Because you would probably guilt us into watching a documentary on how turkeys are brutally slaughtered before they're put on our tables, and we're not going to do that to ourselves," mumbled Steve, earning a giggle from Sam. 

"Shut up, Sam, you live with your mom."

"My mom baked us cookies."

"Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?" Tony quipped, engaging himself by leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. At the very least, Tony could play nice  _for the food._ He put himself in the mind of a stray dog that had been around the track enough times to know that cute faces got table scraps. 

**_This changed everything._  **

If JARVIS announced the movie, Tony missed it, but he made himself comfortable anyway, shifting in his seat with a very enthusiastic  _'welp',_ opening his arms wide and resting them on the back of the couch. They situated themselves behind Steve's and Bruce's necks, and whether or not they decided to use them as pillows was entirely up to them. He crossed his ankles, clearing his throat and turning his eyes towards the screen. 

Thor perched himself in an arm chair. Clint sat with Nat and Sam, directly across from Tony, Steve and Bruce. Tony didn't even snap at Barton for putting his feet on the table. 

Maybe the amused smile on his face wasn't actually all that forced when the lights dimmed, and the screen on the wall showed the Warner Bros logo. 


	2. Cranberry Sauce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You hate them, that's why you love them.  
> Or maybe it's the other way around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I should let you know- the chapters are going to be somewhat short towards the beginning, but the length is gonna go up after I get the introductions out and everything. 
> 
> I decided to challenge myself to start, flesh out, write and edit for and on Thanksgiving Day.

Pepper. Hated. Planes. 

Nothing good ever happened on a plane. She knew they were safer in the air than they were on the ground, the wings went right through and couldn't fall off, the pilots went through years of college to get behind that wheel, and if something were to go wrong, she wouldn't feel anything after death. She knew the babies bawling their asses off were too young to understand the concept of,  _'Now, Jimmy, you're being annoying and rude, please quiet down,'_ so she didn't feel any ill will towards the haggard parents who looked like they wanted a bullet in their brains. She knew if someone was sick on this plane, the air circulating throughout would ensure that  _Pepper_ gets sick, and she also knew that if she showed up to Mom and Dad's with a cold, they would never let her leave, because when Pepper got sick, it  _lasted._ She knew she was going to get absolutely drunk this week, and she knew she was going to see her nephews and niece and she knew the machine she was rambling to on the plane wasn't her brother. 

God, Pepper hated machines. 

The  _beep_ cut her off, shrill and unforgiving, and she redialed. She was a nervous chatterer, and the obnoxious man beside her was absolutely not an option to take that out on. Had he been, oh, say... A little better looking, better smelling, better sounding-- Hell, if he was anybody else, Pepper would probably be talking to him. But every now and then this man would lean across and say something to her, a thick curtain of his breath surrounding her face, and she was trapped between him and the window of a plane with _nowhere to go._ So she offered a pained smile, nodded, and went back to her one sided phone call. 

Realistically, she knew the plane wasn't what made her nervous. Pepper rode planes all the time. She was Tony Stark's CEO, she was used to this. 

Family, though.

Pepper redialed again.

* * *

 

The airport was no different from the plane. There were a lot of sweaty people- sweaty people making phone calls, sweaty people chasing their kids, sweaty  _kids,_ sweaty people cooing at babies, sweaty people not watching what they were doing or where they were going, sweaty people meeting up with slightly less sweaty people they looked like- and it was  _loud_ , crowded and nerve wracking. Pepper would need to take a Xanax when she got to the house. 

After a little bit of wandering (because she had no real motivation to actively seek out her family), she heard a piercing call, similar to that of a crow's caw, and the hair on the back of Pepper's neck stood straight up. Her face felt numb from the cold; she hoped she was smiling and not grimacing.

_"VIrginia!"_

Her stomach churning, Pepper inwardly sighed, a quiet "Hi, Mom," passing through her lips, though it was so loud in the airport, she couldn't even hear it. She steeled herself for a moment, breathing (good air in, bad air out) before she straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and spun on her heel, 'bright' eyes searching the crowd for the source of the shriek. 

Never fear, though, it continued. As if Pepper hadn't heard her the first time. "Virginia, my  _baby,_ you look so thin! What have they been  _feeding you_ up there? You're a bean pole- what on  _Earth_ are you wearing on your legs?" Pepper self consciously looked down, shifting her feet as she held her hair out of her way with the backs of her wrists.

"They're leg warmers," she mumbled, and was ignored. 

"They're  _hideous,_ I'll never understand New York fashion. You remember your cousin, Dally, right? From New York? Always wearing..."

Pepper tuned Darla out, her eyes focusing on some unhappy looking little boy as he was picked up off the ground.  _Me, too, kid,_ she thought.  _Me, too._ Out of nowhere, there was a ridiculously bright flash in her face, and she did a double take, blinking until her vision returned. She was so strung out, she was half expecting the flash to be some Hydra attack with flash grenades, and her hand grappled in her pocket for a gun that she knew wasn't there, until she came to her senses and realized it was only her father, holding a camera that was bulkier than necessary. 

"Ginny, I said say cheese, you didn't say cheese," he complained lightly, reaching out to rough her hair up a bit. Pepper's hand fell from her pocket, and she pursed her lips. She had forgotten how annoying the name 'Virginia' was, when it was said in those tones of voices with those inflections. 

"Where's Jackie?" she asked, ignoring her parents' attempts at conversation, because they'd already begun pulling her towards the exit. She shifted her bag around on her back, the suitcase at her side bouncing a bit as the wheel caught on a lost toy. When she glanced down, she tried to keep a hysterical laugh back- she'd just run the Hulk over with her toiletries. 

"Jackie? He's not coming, dear," her mother said, in such a blase tone it made a shiver pass through her entire body, and it had nothing to do with the cold. 

"What do you mean, he's not coming?" she asked as they stepped out into the chilly air, and-- okay, maybe  _that_ shiver was because of the cold. It was California, though, so it wasn't too incredibly horrid compared to New York. She would live. "I can't have Thanksgiving without my _brother_ ," Pepper whined, toddling after her parents, her boots too heavy for comfort before they all loaded into the Subaru. 

"You managed perfectly well last year," said Owen with a little huff as he settled himself behind the steering wheel, who was still harboring ill will towards one Tony Stark. 

"That wasn't my fault, all the planes were unavailable and the city was bordering lockdown," Pepper sighed in exasperation.

"Why does everything happen in New York?" 

Pepper turned to look at her mother, a question on her lips, but she didn't get to pose it. 

"Nothing ever happens to the middle of the country. Here in California, we get earthquakes and  _normal_ terrorists."

_"Mom!"_

"What? It's true."

"That's not true," she refuted, shaking her head and biting her thin lower lip. "Just because we have superheroes doesn't mean SHIELD isn't investigating things outside of New York. Thor, for example, remember when he hit the news? That was New Mexico."

"I thought it was Arizona," her dad piped in. 

"No, Dad, it was New Mexico. I would know, Tony got a very angry call, because they thought his tech was destroying the town."

Darla rolled her eyes. "Yes, but dear, everybody knows that the entire city gets a facelift in the worst way when the Avengers are needed."

"I'd rather be taxed for new roads than die."

There was a heavy silence in the car, and Pepper shifted, resting her knees on the back of her mom's seat. Jackie wasn't going to be there.  _Jenny_ was going to be there, but Jenny had kids and a husband to watch, so it would be selfish to expect full attention from her. Maybe she could escape the gross reality that she didn't feel up to the stress of being crammed into a house with her family by playing with her nephews, or doing her niece's hair. Then again- they'd probably grown, Michael probably didn't like toy cars anymore and Megan was probably over princesses. At least Pepper still had Jacob. Jacob still loved her. Probably.

It was hard to be the uncool aunt to a five year old. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I refuse to let Pepper be a side character dependent on Tony Stark  
> she's a strong independent young ginger who don't need no man
> 
> I hope nobody minds that I entirely made Pepper's family up. I just hate her being storyless. I hate it when people portray her as having no life outside of being a CEO. Pepper's job is secondary to her life.


End file.
